Opening a Magic Academy at the End of the World [Yuri, Transgender, Book 1 Complete]

Nur rushed outside with a few other staff members. Running did not befit an academy headmaster, but alas.

They passed through the double doors to the caverns and rushed up the incline.

The first thing Nur noticed was the ground covered in a few inches of water. It had leaked into the caves as well. It had come through the air vents around the academy, and spilled out into the first foyer. Nur had quickly called upon the thermal mages to seal all of those spots. The last thing he wanted was the academy flooding. Unfortunately, this meant air quality from ventilation would dip tremendously. Also, the ocean beyond the cathedral may fill up—maybe it would take years, though. Or never.

The second thing Nur noticed was the blue sky. Clouds of white and gray dotted it.

Puddles splashed underfoot as they emerged from the cave and onto the surface. The group froze in place.

Nur was not one to be surprised.

His mouth gaped.

“Great golden shell of the divine,” Barakat gasped.

Nur made an effort to stay as far away from him as possible. Barakat agreed. Yet, here they were, opposite in their small group, but still close.

The wind-blasted wastes now grew with green plants. Trees had taken to sprouting.

“How could this happen?” Mutamid asked.

“Someone sped up time,” Nur said. “The tempest is gone, and time excelled for many years beyond the tempest's dissolution.”

“Magnificent,” Barakat said.

Mutamid turned towards Nur. “Do we even need the academy anymore? Is your plan still in motion?”

Nur nodded. “I won't let all of this go to waste. The resources beyond are still too valuable.”

“We should get the students up here!” Barakat exclaimed. “They should see this!”

“Mutamid. Gather the students. Let them all up here.”

Mutamid took a deep breath and sighed with contentment. “Of course.”

Nur breathed too. The air was indeed fresher than before. New smells permeated the air, flowery and sun-baked.

Chirp. Chirp!

The group glanced around, looking for the noise.

A strange bird sat on the ruins of the cathedral. Then, another landed.

Chirp! Chirp!

Nur saw Mutamid and Barakat grinning like children.

A smile broke across Nur's face.

“Get along, now. You can come back and bask some more once the students are here.”

“Should I gather everyone?”

Nur hesitated. He agreed to have Sanya out of view . . . but even she deserved to see this. “Yes. Everyone.”

Aisha may have done them a disservice by killing the Prince. This, though, maybe this made up for it . . . What other temporal mage could have done such a feat?

Actually, maybe killing the Prince wasn't even a disservice. Maybe hastening their schedule would work in their favor too.

Maybe they could move the entire academy above ground . . . That would take resources they didn't have.

After the students would gaze upon their new world, Nur would put them to work.

☆ ☆ ☆

Mutamid poked his head into the infirmary, opening the door. “Everyone is to go outside!”

Dima, Mai, and Sanya turned to look his way. What was this, all of a sudden? Why were they needed outside? There was nothing out there for them. Did it have to do with the alleged water problems the academy suddenly had? The thermal mages had patched those spots, or so Mai had relayed.

“What for?” Mai asked. “Are we finally going to visit the drained ocean?”

Mutamid tilted his head. “Pardon?”

“Oh! Barakat said if we do well in our studies we might be able to take a trip out there.”

Sanya forgot that Barakat had said that. Sanya hoped to forget everything that had come out of his mouth. Apparently he had said a lot of mean things to Sanya when she had been out cold from her . . . attempt.

“This is far better,” Mutamid winked.

Mai immediately bounced out of bed and bounded over to the door. Mai had limitless energy . . .

Sanya continued to sit in her bed. Far better than seeing an empty ocean? That was a pretty low bar to hit. There wasn't anything outside that Sanya wanted to see.

Mutamid clapped his hands. “Hurry along, now! I have to go tell others!”

Why was he so enthusiastic? He never seemed to be out of energy. Even Mai sometimes got sad. Although, Sanya only ever saw Mutamid's public face. Maybe he cried to himself during his sleep, like Sanya—um, what?

Mutamid left the door. Mai took it and held it open, her other hand holding her staff—the bandaged one.

She turned and tilted her head at Sanya. “Are you coming?”

Sanya got up, and the three of them headed outside.

She ignored the hushed whispers and the mean looks tossed her way as she walked by. That, and the fear and the uncertainty from the students, as if some unchained beast walked the halls.

Right. Mai may have forgotten, but all these students still had Sanya's murder on their minds. Sanya the Psychopathic Murderer. Sanya Who Stabs Her Girlfriend. Sanya the Certain Derogatory Word . . . or that other one. That was her!

Through the various tunnels and rooms of the academy, following groups of students, they made it to the double doors leading outside. They walked along the incline, water soaking into their boots.

The lighting was brighter than usual? Maybe because they had spent days in a cave? Sanya squinted while her eyes adjusted.

Wha—where was the tempest? Sanya saw blue skies and gray clouds. She blinked, then rubbed her eyes, as if they were deluding her. Nope, the blue skies and gray clouds were still up there.

Groups of students were all standing at the top of the incline, out on the surface. Other groups had to push their way through, only to freeze up themselves.

What was making everyone all frozen and speechless?

Mai tugged on Sanya's arm, and she ran forward. Sanya almost tripped, and she stumbled to keep up with Mai. Dima trailed behind Sanya, like some kind of discreet guard. She was supposed to be a nurse. Hmph.

“Excuse us!” Mai cried, trying to get through the students. She was on the short side, and tried going onto her toes for extra height. “Sanya, can you see, what is it?”

Sanya could indeed see. She stopped and blinked. A field of generous splotches of greens stretched on to the horizon. Grass and flowers and bushes and little saplings. All kinds of flora had somehow sprouted up and even begun to flourish.

Mai looked up at her, eyes gleaming with curiosity.

“Did someone say ‘Sanya?’” A student murmured.

“What's she doing here?” Another asked.

Dima stepped up to Sanya. “Alright, you're unsettling the students, I've been informed to take you back. You've seen it already.”

“Seen what?” Mai went on the tips of her toes again, but she still couldn't see through or over the masses of students. “Can't Sanya stay?”

“No.”

Sanya glanced around. Nur, Barakat, and Mutamid all stood behind the groups. Sanya saw Of-Salama as well. Even the chefs had come out.

Ninety people, all gathered and standing beyond the cave system.

Sanya looked around for Zahira but couldn't see her. She saw Aaliyah and many other familiar faces. Where was the librarian?

“When do you want to do it?” Sanya heard Mutamid ask.

“Preferably, now,” Nur replied. “Let's get anyone without attunement to leave, to help clear it out.”

What was that about? Do what? Attunement to what? Spatial mana? So could Sanya stay? Was it even in her best interest to stay?

“Come on, we should go,” Dima said.

Sanya sighed, and let herself be taken away.

She glanced back, someone had approached Mai. They whispered something to her, and shock or something etched Mai's face. Then she gave a wide, toothy grin. The person pushed through the crowds and allowed Mai to get through.

What was that exchange? . . .

Sanya followed Dima back into the caves.

☆ ☆ ☆

“Everyone who isn't attuned to abyssal—or spatial—mana, please go back into the academy,” Nur announced.

Most staff members and maybe half the students began clearing out, heading back into the caves.

That still left around thirty-five individuals.

“You and Barakat may stay,” Nur told Mutamid.

Many students had visibly relaxed upon watching Sanya get ushered away. Nur had conflicted feelings about that. He supposed it was warranted, but also sad. Sanya was also a powerful tool for the spell, one that he wouldn't be able to utilize.

Nur pushed his way through the front of the crowd. There had been a bubble around them of untouched land. A circle dozens of paces out had acted like an invisible barrier between the growth of the plants and the wasteland sands. So strange . . . Aisha had somehow avoided the academy when doing her temporal manipulation shenanigans. Had she done that for all other civilizations as well? How had she managed that, or rather, how would she have?

What if Glorestra had somehow advanced a hundred years? Nur shook his head. It wouldn't have worked like that . . . would it have?

“Alright,” Nur stopped walking, then turned to face the crowd of students. “I'm going to cast a spell, and I want you to channel your mana into it when I say so. Use your staves, use your stave-less basic ability—anything. Theoretically, this should work.”

Some students looked at each other quizzically. Others just shrugged.

It was good they didn't ask questions about it. It was easier this way. Hopefully they would forgive him once the result came to fruition—if it did.

Nur held up his staff and began working meticulously to create this utterly incomprehensible spell. He stumbled a few times trying to remember certain pieces of it. This would have been so much easier with the book . . .

Nur willed his mana to project to the students.

“Get ready to channel,” Nur said.

It took an embarrassing amount of time to create the spell. Like, half a dozen minutes. Some students watched with curiosity, others analyzing and awed. Others watched critically or were confused.

Finally, after tinkering with some of the sections he was less confident on, the spell locked into form.

“Channel!”

Nur poured everything he had into the spell. He felt others channeling into his spell as well. Good that some figured out how to do it.

Soon, magic was surging through his creation.

“[Portal to the Abyss],” Nur whispered.

The purple form at the end of his staff swelled, becoming the size of a one-story building. Then a two-story. It stood between Nur and the rest of the group.

Students gasped.

“. . . What spell is this? . . .”

“. . . What did we do? . . .”

The wispy purple form deepened and became a more defined shape. A darker point emerged from the middle, then tore open and extended to the edges of the form like diverging claws ripping through cloth.

The shape lost a dimension, dropping width, almost like it was converging in on itself.

It became a two-dimensional team in reality.

A blast of cold air rushed out from it at all sides. It blew into robes and shivered skin.

Nur's ears popped.

About half the students took steps back, some more than others.

A few stepped closer in consuming curiosity.

Something else cracked—not the portal.

Nur looked up.

The sky itself began to snap like glass taking a hit.

That . . . wasn't supposed to happen.

Threads of spatial magic emerged from the crack, like seeking tentacles.

They were fast and illusory. Nur glanced around. Some snaked off into the horizon until they vanished. A hundred silken lines danced lazily.

The ground trembled, both physically . . . and something else.

The whole world shivered and shrunk, as if taken over by a primal fear.

“Nur?” A student said.

“Headmaster!” Another cried, voice quivering.

Barakat began making attempts to soothe the students.

Mutamid ran around the portal and stepped up to Nur.

“What is going to plan? Did you account for all of this?” He demanded.

Nur shook his head. “I only knew about the portal. I only wanted the portal. I didn't realize that it would be like . . . like this.”

Like shattered glass, purple mana rained down from the crack in the sky. Actually real, not just an invisible impression. Not just a sixth sense.

The crack shrunk until it disappeared. The ethereal purple threads remained, although frayed and faded from their starting point at the crack.

The portal solidifed—as much as something like that could solidify. It became real and whole. Defined.

Mutamid watched, mouth open.

Nur sighed with relief as things settled down.

“I never want to experience any of that ever again,” Mutamid said, shaking.

Nur gave him a sly grin. “Do you want to enter"?

“Heliux, no. Not in a thousand years. You can have fun with that. Good luck finding students to enter this eyesore with you,” Mutamid waves to Nur without looking back, he headed around it and to the students.

Nur decided to do the same, circumnavigating the portal.

“Nur!” a student pleaded. “What did we just do?”

“. . . Yeah! What in Heliux’s forsaken hellscape was that? . . .”

Nur frowned. “I suppose an explanation is in order.”

“. . . Definitely! . . .”

“. . . You can say that again! . . .”

Nur sighed. “I opened a portal to the abyss. Beyond it are valuable resources that human society can take advantage of.”

Students blinked. “What kind of resources?”

“. . . Was it worth it? . . .”

“. . . Do you really know what we just opened? . . .”

Something hissed.

“Um, Nur . . .” A student pointed behind Nur.

He turned.

Purple mist spewed out of the portal, enveloping the air around it. It continued to lazily expand.

Something howled—like an animal. Then—a growl. Like angry dogs. Was this what wolves sounded like? The air smelled unlike anything Nur had ever processed before. Utterly alien.

A shiver ripped through Nur's spine. Huh. Usually he wasn't prone to that—to fear. Nur took a step back. He readied his staff.

“Grawr!” A particularly vicious growl snarled out.

Some purple form leapt through the portal and crashed into Nur.

He hit the sandy ground and lost grip on his staff.

Immense weight pushed down on Nur. Eyes and a great jaw looked down on him. A huff of purple mist released from its snout. Cold. Paralyzing.

Nur paled.

Students screamed.

Nur tried to move—tried to get the thing off of him. It was like wrestling with a sand shark—not that he had done that before—but infinitely worse.

What? . . .

More dog-things and other beasts emerged from the portal.

Pain stabbed through Nur's chest. Cold teeth dug into his torso. The beast snarled and began to snack on Nur.

The purple dog monster took a bite from Nur, leaving him all gored and hollow. It consumed Nur like some new, tasty, otherworldly prey . . . and Nur was—the new otherworldly prey bit, at least. He didn't know about the tasty part. Maybe Barakat knew, once . . .

Nur stopped breathing. His heart stopped beating.

His vision went dark. Next went his consciousness.

Forever.